


You Don't Have To (But I Do)

by maiNuoire



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Holding Hands, Idiots in Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-14
Updated: 2018-09-14
Packaged: 2019-07-12 08:34:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15991565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maiNuoire/pseuds/maiNuoire
Summary: After a brief flash of what they used to be at his favorite diner, Stiles decides is time to tell Derek what he wants them to be.





	You Don't Have To (But I Do)

**Author's Note:**

> This never made it over from tumblr, and i really kinda love it.
> 
> I hope you do, too.

The room was silent except for the muted sounds of the storm outside, the steady drum of rain hitting the oversized windows and the thunder rolling ever closer a pale echo of Stiles’ own pulse; his heart was hammering in his chest so loudly that he could hardly hear the speech he was trying to rehearse in his head. 

 

Derek watched him cautiously, expectant but wary from the other end of the worn couch, body turned toward Stiles and a readiness in his posture that meant he was preparing to leap into action if the need were to arise. “You- you said there was something you wanted to tell me? Are you sure that's all, Stiles? Is something wrong?”

 

Derek sounds worried, and Stiles wants to rush to reassure him, but the words are stuck behind the ones that have been swirling in his head for what feels like forever. He manages to reach a hand out and rest it on Derek's wrist where it’s perched on his knee. It isn't until Derek brings his other hand to clasp over Stiles’ that Stiles realizes his grip is more of a clutch than a comfort. He can't loosen his fingers though, even with the way Derek's thumb starts to rub soothingly over the back of Stiles’ knuckles. 

 

“Stiles?” 

 

It's the softness of Derek's voice that gets him, the way his name sounds like a plea when said so quietly in the small space between them. Though really, it's Derek. It's always just Derek that brings Stiles running, that brings him back to himself, that pushes him to keep going, be better. It's Derek and his way of making Stiles want to have more, to be more, that brought Stiles to his door at nearly midnight on a night with the promise of heavy rains.

 

It's Derek's warmth and his once surprising but now accustomed sincerity that made Stiles’ fall in love with him, and it's those things that finally have the tension in his body melting away enough that he can take a deep breath and begin. 

 

“I was sitting in the diner, and the waitress was being flirted with by this over-eager kid, and she was so obviously irritated, y'know? She was  _ pouring coffee _ angrily! It was actually impressive, but... Her whole face just screamed  _ ‘I'm annoyed and it's gross to hit on people at their job _ ’, but she had to be polite, because she's at work, but she had these eyebrows that could put yours to shame for their vocabulary, and the kid was all hyper energy and elbows,” Derek's eyebrows are eloquent enough to convey his confusion, but he's listening intently regardless of how little sense Stiles is making. His patience with Stiles’ rambling has grown to admirable proportions in the years they've been friends, it may be another reason Stiles loves him. 

 

“I was watching them, and I thought  _ ‘I almost miss that’ _ but that's a lie! I don't miss that at all! I don't miss you looking like you'd rather claw your own eyes out than ask me for the time of day, or me being so nervous around you that all I could do was run my mouth. I don't miss us being barely tolerant acquaintances, I wouldn't change our friendship for anything. But I needed to tell you before another day ended, I don't know why, but watching them, I had to tell you right away, that I am stupidly, totally in love with you, and I don't think I can stop. I don't want to lose you, I would literally rather give up breathing than not have you in my life; you don't have to love me back, I totally get it if you don't, or you can't. I just. I needed to tell you. I needed you to know that I love you, because on the other side of the diner was this tiny, grumpy old man with kept looking at a photo in his wallet and he had this sad-happy frown, and I don't want to be alone 50 years from now looking back and feeling like I-”

 

Stiles is cut off by a burst of delighted laughter from Derek, who is somehow right next to him now, knees touching and Derek's body leaning into Stiles’ space. 

 

“Wha- Der?” Stiles is too stunned to be scared that he's messed up-- Derek's laughter always catches Stiles slightly off guard with its audacity. Making him joyful by proxy-- but he is uncertain about what it means. 

 

Derek drops Stiles’ hand so that he can cup his face instead. “You are,” Derek chuckles, pressing his thumbs lightly along Stiles’ cheekbones and looking at him with something like awe, “So, so stupid.” He's still smiling, and before Stiles can make a reflexive indignant scoff, Derek is giving him the softest, most perfect kiss of his entire life. 

 

It's over before Stiles can blink, but it only ends so Derek can say “I love you, too,” around a smile, and then the kiss resumes in quick presses and slow drags and exploratory swipes of tongue in between shared smiles and bursts of joyful laughter.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! 
> 
> I'm poetry-protest-pornography on tumblr!


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